


Two Pieces

by winterwaters



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Sexual Content, some TV & book canon, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We don't know where to go, so I'll just get lost with you."</p><p>So many ifs. If Gendry and Arya had escaped the Brotherhood when she'd said so. If he'd been with her at the Red Wedding. If he'd been there when she killed that guy (TV canon). If they traveled to Braavos together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I do this to myself, since it'll never happen. But I had to get it out somewhere.  
> Also, title from the song of same name by Demi Lovato. All I can think of is Arya and Gendry when I hear that song. I have issues XD

_“I could be your family.”_

_“Only you wouldn’t be my family. You’d be my lady.”_

Arya blinked the tears from her eyes as her temper snapped. “That’s right, stupid. And as your lady, I’m telling you we’re leaving tonight.” 

Gendry stared back at her for a long moment, his face unreadable before a hint of amusement broke through. “As m’lady commands, then,” he replied softly, and she couldn’t even be mad at him for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They slipped out in the quiet of the night, careful not to wake the others. Arya winced at Gendry’s loud footfalls, certain he would get them caught. She told him just as much several times, until he hissed back angrily that she shouldn’t have brought him along then, and that shut her up.

“Not everyone can be as quiet as you, m’lady,” Gendry added curtly, and she fought the urge to give him a good whack on the head. 

By then they were well into the forest, getting further from the cave with each step, but Arya’s ears still strained for the sounds of shouting and horseshoes clattering behind them. After they had been walking for a long time in silence, Arya heard something else nearby and threw out an arm, motioning for Gendry to stop.

He halted, tilting his head, and she knew when he heard it, too. He touched her elbow, jerking his head to the right, away from the noise, and she nodded. Cautiously, they took a step, then another, further from the path and into the darkness. Gendry’s hand slid down from her elbow to grip hers tightly. She didn’t object.

Arya noticed the hollow in the ground behind a massive tree nearby and tugged him towards it. The space was small, so she pushed him down first and crawled in after. At first, they were a tangle of limbs, and Arya was sure the commotion would attract everyone within miles. Then Gendry put a hand over her mouth and whispered directly in her ear, “Stop fighting me.” 

She reluctantly let her body go limp, and felt him settle in around her. Then his large hands gently adjusted her limbs, tucking her so she was curled into a ball against him, and suddenly the space was much more manageable.

“Okay?” The word was a single breath, so quiet she thought she might have imagined it.

Arya nodded against his chest, and he threw his cloak over both of them, leaving his arm around her. She felt her body relax against him, ever so slowly, and allowed herself a moment to realize just how tired she was. 

Then she heard the footsteps, and Gendry’s grip tightened over her shoulders. The sound was a slow, careful tread of a horse, that much she could tell, and it was getting closer. Arya curled in further, pressing her head into the crook of his arm and wondering who else could hear the loud hammering of her heart. She forced her breathing to slow, matching the rise and fall of Gendry’s chest, which was somehow still calm. His grip on her was the only thing betraying his concern.

They held their breath as the footfalls approached. Who would set such a glacial pace at this time of night? Arya wondered in frustration. Those who traveled at night did so quickly, to get somewhere. Whoever this was, they were not in a hurry. It was almost like they were waiting, prowling. 

_What do we say to the God of Death?_ Syrio’s voice echoed through her mind. _Not today._ Arya repeated the words to herself until she believed them again.

When horse and rider had passed, the steps fading slowly, she allowed herself to peek up at Gendry. His blue eyes were wide open, staring past their hiding place, as if he might see something if he didn’t blink for a long enough time.

Arya tugged on his vest until his gaze cleared and landed on her. When he made as if to move, she shook her head, hands pushing against his chest. “We shouldn’t move for a bit,” she told him quietly. “In case…in case they come back.” 

He nodded in understanding, settling back and pulling her with him. “I’ll take first watch.” His large hand clamped over her mouth, effectively shushing her protests. “Arya. Sleep,” he said firmly, waiting for her nod of agreement before removing his hand.

She leaned against him tentatively, letting her eyes close as the exhaustion overtook her, and she slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Birds chirping awoke her a few hours later, as the forest began to wake up. The first rays of dawn peeked through the trees, and Arya looked up to see Gendry’s head had fallen back, his face unguarded in sleep. Her first thought was to scold him for not waking her. Then she noticed his worn expression, and decided it could wait.

She lay listening to the woods, glad to hear only the animals moving about. When she felt Gendry stir, she looked up again to see him yawn and open his eyes, attempting to stretch before remembering their cramped position.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready.”

Arya clambered out first, gratefully unwinding herself and feeling her muscles stretch. Gendry followed, cracking his shoulders and back with another large yawn. 

He let her lead without question, and they moved along slowly, taking their meals sparingly and keeping off the roads. Days later, though, they heard the unmistakable sounds of wagon wheels and dove into the brush just as the wagon rounded into view.

The sounds of laughter and conversation reached them, and Arya’s eyes widened as she heard her mother and brother’s names. After the troupe had passed, Gendry looked at her knowingly and didn’t object when she headed off after the wagon in the direction of The Twins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arya’s voice sounded foreign to her own ears as she fought wildly against Gendry’s grip. She shouted and punched and begged him to let her inside, because her mother and Robb were _right there_ , just inside the doors, if only he would let her go. 

But his face was set in grim determination and he didn’t budge, his arms merely tightening as she struggled further. “Arya,” he yelled angrily, and she was so startled that her movements stopped. Gendry didn’t yell.

“Arya,” he said again, and this time his voice was pleading. “Tell me what you see. Look across the bridge, and tell me.” 

She glared at his inane question, but the fear in his eyes made her turn and look carefully. The Stark guards were positioned at the doors, as they should have been. But too many people were outside. Why were there so many men? Then her eyes caught the flash of chain mail, and her stomach dropped.

She saw a guard turn to the door, pulling and then banging on it when it didn’t budge. As he turned to the man next to him, they were set upon by several others, and then there was red everywhere she could see.

“No,” she whispered, unbelieving. How could it be, that she would get this close only to lose everything again? That wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet her eyes were telling her it was indeed happening, and she began to struggle against Gendry once more.

“Arya, are you mad?”

“My family is in there,” she yelled back, and he hesitated but didn’t let go of her. 

“And mine is right here,” he replied angrily. “I won’t let you walk into certain death.”

Somewhere in the haze of her mind, his words registered, but she couldn’t process them. “How do you know? They could be fighting-“

“Arya,” he shook her by the shoulders. “Look around. This is no sudden battle. This was planned carefully, down to the locked doors. It’s not a fight. It’s an ambush.”

Arya knew he was right, but her heart couldn’t accept it. “I can’t just leave them,” she argued. “I won’t.” 

“Then I don’t have a choice.” Gendry let her go suddenly and she thought he would leave her. So she turned her back, only to hear, “I’m sorry, m’lady,” before something hit her head, and her world went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arya awoke with a pounding head and burning rage. She sat up, ignoring her headache, and looked for Gendry. He was leaning against a tree trunk, his head drooping in sleep.

Her slap brought him into surprised wakefulness, and he was unable to defend himself as she pushed him to the ground. She landed blows on every part of his body, realizing only after she heard a particularly sickening crunch that he wasn’t fighting back.

When she looked at him angrily, Arya saw only concern and a fierce stubbornness that mirrored her own, and she went to hit him again. This time, his hand closed around her wrists and he sat up, holding her against him with his other arm tight around her back. 

Arya struggled still, needing to hate him and being inherently unable to. Her harsh words became nonsensical sounds and choked sobs until all she could do was hold on to him, gripping his shoulders forcefully. Gendry didn’t say a word, simply putting both arms around her and laying his cheek against her hair.

She didn’t know how long they sat there, only that the sun was high in the sky when she finally loosened her grip and leaned back. A bruise was forming under his left eye, and a cut had dried on his forehead, but he said nothing, just watched her. 

Arya stood up, using her dagger to cut cloth from her sleeve and wetting it in the nearby stream. When she returned, Gendry still hadn’t moved. She knelt next to him and reached up, carefully patting the cold cloth against his face. His jaw clenched, and then a small sigh escaped him as the cool water quieted the angry skin.

 _My family is right here,_ he’d said to her. And Arya thought now that was truer than ever for them both. She was determined not to lose anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walked for weeks. Arya had no idea where she was leading, except that it was far away from the pain and sadness behind them. She managed to avoid people, save for one unlucky group of soldiers.

The ass had been bragging about his handiwork, how he took Robb Stark’s severed head and put it on his direwolf’s body. Arya had felt her stomach revolt, but since nothing had been in it for days, the feeling quickly turned into fury.

Ignoring Gendry, she walked up behind the man, asking for the warmth of the fire. When he told her to piss off, she pulled out Jaqen’s coin, watching the fool’s eyes widen at the thought of payment. He leaned forward to take it, and it slipped from her fingers.

“Oops,” she shrugged. He glared and leaned down to pick it up, and her dagger was out and slashing into his throat repeatedly.

The other three came at her, only to be met by Gendry’s large form. From her spot on the ground, Arya realized he appeared quite intimidating to others, to the point that they didn’t see his sword hand shaking. He managed to overwhelm two of the men with sheer strength, eventually using the hilt of the sword on the third man before turning around accusingly. She braced for a scolding, only to get a terse order.

“Next time you’re going to do that, warn me first,” he said sternly. She nodded, and he held out a hand to help her up, surprising her by pulling her close for a moment. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, and she couldn’t tell if it was her heart or his that was beating faster.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They kept walking, and Arya lost track of time. Every inn began to look the same, and soon she itched to get away from this land that held only death and despair. At one such inn, she discovered red in her smallclothes one morning, but said nothing. After all, there was no one who needed to know.

Then she caught Gendry grinning at her one day, and her stomach flipped.

“What?”

“Nothing.” At her disbelieving look, he reached out to gently tug at her growing hair. “You’re starting to look like a girl.”

She punched his shoulder, and his soft laugh made her feel strange things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day the air changed, and Arya wrinkled her nose when she smelled the salt. 

“Water,” Gendry said wonderingly, and their steps quickened until they came upon the docks, filled with merchants and sailors and people of more kinds than Arya knew existed.

They watched as ships came and went, and Arya knew they had to get on one. She fingered her tangled, dirty hair, aware that no captain would give passage to two kids without payment. At night, they both took turns cleaning themselves as best they could. As Arya put her clothes back on, something fell from her belt onto the sand. She picked up Jaqen’s silver coin and decided maybe there was a way after all.

When they stood on the docks in front of the captain the next day, she pulled the coin out again and gave it to him, repeating the words Jaqen had said to her. “Valar Morghulis.” 

His gaze was mixed with suspicion and awe, but the coin won out. “Valar Dohaeris,” he replied, and stepped aside. She grabbed Gendry’s hand to pull him onboard with her, when the man stopped them. 

“Only you,” he said, and she glared at him. 

“Either you take both of us, or give me back my payment.” She extended her free hand to him, waiting expectantly for the coin. He eyed her for a moment, but his fist had closed around the coin already, and Arya knew she’d won. She tugged Gendry’s hand and they climbed aboard.

He gave her a questioning look but didn’t ask further, and she didn’t offer an explanation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Braavos was teeming with people. Everywhere they went, Arya found something new to see or do. Gendry couldn’t seem to stop looking around, either. When they’d stepped off the boat, his head had twisted nearly every which way, trying to see everything at once, and she couldn’t help her own grin. They’d wandered into the city, but not too far, both consciously deciding to stay close to the harbor.

Gendry had quickly found work at a forge and now spent most of his days there. In payment, he had requested use of a small room in the back, where Arya snuck in at night long after the others had left.

Arya resorted to picking pockets where she could, until one day she thought she heard Syrio’s voice and nearly went mad searching for him. She followed the voice to a building with a wide courtyard, where she saw people fighting with practice swords. Then a hand had closed around her shoulder, making her jump, and she was taken inside. 

Haltingly, introducing herself as Cat, she mentioned having seen a Braavosi instructor teach a friend, and how much he’d admired his fighting skills. Syrio’s name tumbled out before she could stop it, and she found herself somehow welcomed into the odd little school. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most days, she trained with the other students. But now and then she was allowed to instruct, and there she thrived. Arya returned to the forge at night bursting with stories from the day, and Gendry would greet her with a knowing smile and listen attentively as they ate the food she’d brought or he’d received as payment. Then he would talk in his quiet way about news the ships and visitors had brought in. He was always careful and never too specific, and she was grateful for it.

Usually, they would fall asleep huddled on the cot, Gendry usually up and about before her. One day, though, she awoke to his solid form against her back, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist. He usually slept without a shirt, a fact she’d only recently come to care about. Something churned inside her, and she pressed her face into the cot, uncertain of her body’s reaction. Thinking to move away, she shifted against him and found that only escalated the tightness in her belly, causing heat to pool between her legs. Embarrassed, she stayed still until she felt him wake up, and then his body moved away from hers with surprising rapidness.

Arya was unable to look him in the eye, escaping out the back after a few mumbled words. At the school, she scolded herself for acting so strange and distracted herself with training. On her way back that night, she was unable to stop herself from picking up lemon cakes, thinking of her sister with a pang of sadness.

Over dinner, Arya studied Gendry out of the corner of her eye, trying to decide if he’d picked up on her odd behavior. Even if he had, he probably wouldn’t say anything, she thought ruefully. He was good in that way.

He decided to work that night, having one more piece left to finish. So she sat and watched him, as she had long ago at Harrenhal. Now, though, so many things were different.

Her eyes roamed over his strong arms, flushing at the memory of his hold on her that morning. Her gaze drifted over his broad shoulders to his face, quietly concentrated on his task. Arya thought with a start that he was quite handsome, and then tried to brush the Sansa-like thought away as quickly as it had come. But her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about his honest blue eyes and knowing smile, and her cheeks burned. 

She rose quietly and lay down on the cot, intending to fall asleep to the sound of him working. But thoughts kept running around in her mind, and she found herself wide awake when his long form settled next to her. 

Long after his breathing had settled, Arya lay awake, wondering when her stubborn old friend had become so much more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She came back early from training one day, slipping in through the back to surprise Gendry with the meal she’d brought. As she peeked out to see how many others were still working, Arya was surprised by the sight of another girl in the forge. She stood next to a man who appeared to be her father, smiling at Gendry while the two men talked. 

Arya felt the hatred bubble up with an intensity that surprised her, but she pushed it down, straining to hear the conversation. Gendry seemed to be wrapping up his work for the man, but the girl kept eyeing him. She was all curves and batting eyelashes, practically spilling out of her dress, and Arya’s hands went unthinking to her own small body, all sharp angles lost in a large tunic.

Gendry nodded his head politely at them both as they left, but Arya didn’t miss the girl’s eyes lingering after he turned away. As he moved around, his eyes found hers in surprise, and then a smile warmed his face. Arya tried to return it, but knew she’d failed when his eyes clouded in confusion. 

She turned her back, slowly putting her weapons aside and ignoring his approach. 

“I brought food,” she said lightly, nodding at the bag. 

“Thanks.” Gendry paused, and she knew he was debating whether to push her. “You’re early. I take it today went well?” 

Arya grinned, latching onto the topic like a lifeline. Words spilled out of her mouth as she moved around, finding things to do. She felt his eyes on her, trying to decipher what was wrong, but she ignored it as best she could.

Everyone had left by the time she was done with her story, and they brought the food outside, Gendry bolting the forge door shut. It had been a quiet day, the rough weather forcing ships to delay their travels in and out of the port, so he had little news to share. They finished eating in silence, and Arya sat quietly at the bench while he cleaned up, until the only light was coming from the fire.

“Arya,” his soft voice made her look up despite herself. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she replied defensively.

Gendry looked at her quietly, and she knew he saw right through her. “You don’t have to tell me everything. But I want to know you’re alright.”

She hated his concern. It made it so much harder to resist him when he worried like that. “I’m fine.” Arya forced herself to smile. “Just having silly thoughts.”

“Didn’t know you were capable of those.” He grinned when she threw her leftover apple at him, dodging it easily. As he began cleaning his things, she sat quietly, lost in thought.

"So who was that man?” Arya kept her voice lightly curious, examining her dagger. 

“Which one?” 

“The one you were talking to when I came in.”

Gendry thought for a moment. “Oh, Master Rowan. He’s a merchant from one of the ships that got stuck here an extra day. Wanted me to take a look at his sword.” He looked at her. “Why? Did you recognize him?”

Arya shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Just curious. Was that his daughter with him?”

His eyes crinkled as he tried to figure out her line of questioning. “I guess so. Didn’t ask.” 

“Mmm,” she replied evasively. 

“Why so interested?”

“I’m not. But she was.” Arya gave him a catty smile to hide her own feelings. “She wasn’t here to admire the sword.”

Gendry had an unreadable look on his face. “What?” Arya asked, feeling heat creep into her cheeks for no reason.

He shrugged, through his blue eyes still pierced her. “Didn’t know you noticed that type of thing.” 

“Well I do when it’s that obvious,” she remarked, belatedly hearing the bitterness slip through. Arya scrambled for words to follow but found none and cursed softly. When she saw the smirk cross his face and a strange light fill his eyes, she scrambled off the bench and headed for the cot, hoping to feign sleep.

She removed her boots and curled up, leaving extra room for him. Barely a few minutes later, she heard him enter. Arya cracked an eye open in time to see Gendry remove his shirt, and she took in the line of his shoulders, the strong muscles in his back, the dimples above his waistline before he moved and her eyes snapped tightly shut again. The cot shifted next to her as he stretched out, but his breathing was uneven and she wondered what he was thinking. Then his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him, and her breath caught.

“Did you really think I was paying her any attention?” Gendry’s lips moved against her neck, and Arya shivered despite his warm breath.

“How should I know?” She muttered crossly, and she felt his lips curl into that infuriating smirk once more. She made to move, but his grip had already tightened.

“You should know,” he replied softly, “because you’re my lady. Remember?”

Arya stilled at the words from long ago. How different they sounded now. She twisted, needing to see him. He was hesitant but sincere in his longing, and she found it reflected in her own face. Gendry must have seen it, too, because he leaned forward to close the distance between them, his lips touching hers gently, then more urgently when she responded.

When he pulled away too soon, she made a noise and followed him until her mouth covered his again. A moan sounded in his throat, and he wound his fingers into her hair, deepening the kiss and pulling her on top of his body. Arya shifted against him, wrenching groans from both of them when her core brushed against his hard length. She grinned wickedly against him, wriggling again and laughing when she found herself flat on her back, him hovering over her.

Then his hands were everywhere, tugging at her clothes and teasing every new bit of bare skin he could find. She arched against him, gasping against his lips as he kissed her again, his tongue hotly exploring her mouth. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as his large hands wandered under her shirt, landing on her breasts.

When he’d finally divested her of clothing, Gendry sat back and stared at her, his blue eyes darkening. Arya was taken by his expression. He wanted her, truly wanted her, and the thought made her dizzy. As he leaned down to take her mouth again, she made quick work of his trousers, impatiently pressing against him.

His hands gently parted her thighs, his fingers sinking into her wet heat, and she whimpered, gripping his hair tightly. He groaned against her neck, and pulled his fingers out, and she made a noise of disapproval. Before she could scold him, he was pushing into her, and she sucked in a breath as her body stretched to take him. The pain came swiftly, but this was Gendry, and he whispered apologies against her skin and she held him close anyways, because he made her feel. When he moved against her once, gently, the pain began to turn to pleasure, and his name left her lips on a sigh.

Arya tilted her hips when he pushed back against her, grinning smugly at his groan. They moved together, learning and touching, until Arya felt her body tighten impossibly and she pressed her lips to his, trying to find relief. His fingers trailed down her body to touch her where they were joined, and she came apart with a surprised cry, pleasure flooding through her all the way into her bones. Gendry gave her a biting kiss, his hips jerking as he followed a moment later.

She lay contentedly under him as they got their breath back, stroking his skin and pressing her lips to his shoulder. As Gendry lifted his head for a lazy, teasing kiss, Arya distractedly thought that she would have only ever consented to be _his_ lady. But that, she’d keep to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It shouldn’t have surprised her that Gendry knew her so well. Their relationship hadn’t changed much, aside from the way he woke her some mornings or the way she surprised him after returning early. If anything, it was just another extension of who they were. Now they could argue and tease and fight without words. 

So when she arrived back one night to see Gendry sitting on the bench, hands clasped in front of him, she knew there was news.

“What is it?”

“Sailors from Westeros,” he replied quietly, his blue eyes watching her. “There’s talk of a new wolf prince taking back the North, one castle at a time. They say he and his white wolf travel from the Wall with the Night’s Watch and the Brotherhood.” 

Arya’s breath caught in her throat. _Jon._

Gendry patted the bench, and she sat numbly next to him, letting his fingers grasp hers as she grappled with her thoughts. Arya’s mind swirled with the possibilities, and what it could mean for everything she thought was long gone. She wondered who else had survived. Was it even possible that her little brothers were somewhere out there, too? And Sansa. Gods, what if Sansa had made it? Her mind continue to pore over the ideas until, exhausted by it all, she drifted off to sleep against Gendry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Arya woke up, she was enfolded in Gendry’s arms on the cot. Her head was no less clear, but behind it all a singular purpose had formed: She had to go back. 

Arya looked up, ready to tell Gendry as much, and saw him smiling down at her. He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, before motioning to the corner. She turned to see her sword propped next to two rucksacks already filled with food and supplies, and a grin formed on her face. Gendry pressed a kiss to her hand, his mouth curved up in a proud smile.

“Ready to go?” It was unnecessary, but she asked anyways.

“Ready, my lady.”


End file.
